Merry Christmas To Me
by kci47
Summary: Rafael Barba gets roped into a Santa auction, and Olivia agrees to help him out. But he will owe her a favor in return, and when she calls it in, things get steamy. / Smutty holiday Barson oneshot!


"Hey Barba, you got a minute?"

"That depends. Are you here for SVU or law talk?" Rafael glanced briefly up at the young detective before returning his attention to the file in front of him.

Carisi threw himself into one of the chairs in front of Barba's desk. "Neither, but I am telling Boss Lady you said that," he joked.

Rafael set his papers down and looked again at Carisi. "I wouldn't recommend that, for either of us," he said in all seriousness. "And anyway, I don't have time for either one, so how can I help you?"

"I don't need anything today, Counselor. Just stopping by after I found out you and I are both donating to the NY Children's Yule Ball. I have to say, I never would have thought _you'd_ be the type. I'm glad, though. It's nice."

Rafael felt himself stiffen in affront. "I'm charitable," he snapped. Then he opened his desk drawer to remove his checkbook. "How much did I promise them?" he asked, pen poised to write a check for double the amount. Just to make a point.

Now Carisi looked confused. "It's not a monetary donation," he said slowly, carefully, as if Barba was stupid.

"I don't understand." Rafael frowned at Carisi. The younger man shifted uncomfortably in his chair, eyes darting to the door as if he was planning his escape. A bad feeling began to build in the pit of Rafael's stomach.

"Um—"

"Spit it out, Detective Carisi. I don't have all day. Do I owe them money or not?"

Carisi massaged the back of his neck and gave a short laugh. "No, no money." He stood and edged toward the door. "It's, uh, there's no easy way to say this, Barba—but you agreed to auction off an evening with you. Sorta like a date night."

Rafael wasn't sure when it had happened, but suddenly he was standing, hands braced on his desk as he leaned forward. "Please tell me this is your idea of a terrible joke," he ground out.

Carisi very deliberately backed the rest of the way out of Barba's office, pulling the door partially in front of him like a shield. "Not a joke. You're gonna be Santa #7 on Saturday night at the gala. I—I gotta run now. Work...stuff..."

By the time the red faded from Rafael's vision, Carisi was long gone. Rafael slammed one fist down on his desk—then panicked.

* * *

"Olivia. I need your help." Barba strode into her office and glanced back out around the squad room before shutting her door and pulling the blinds shut.

"Oh, this is already promising to be good," Olivia replied, smiling slightly. "And it's not even nine o'clock yet!"

Her grin widened when Barba huffed out an irritated breath and began to pace. "Very funny. I'm just going to cut to the chase—I need you to attend some Children's Ball or something like that on Saturday and bid on me. I need you to win." He stopped pacing to fix her with the intensity of his gaze.

Olivia felt her brows rise. "Whoa, Barba. Slow down. You mean to tell me _you're_ one of the auction Santas?" She laughed out loud, then, at the disgusted look on his face, laughed even harder. It took her a while to catch her breath, but when she did, she said, "Oh, boy, that's good. Oh, my gosh. I can't wait for the squad to hear—"

"NO! Don't tell them. It's bad enough you and Carisi know." Barba crossed his arms and gave her what he must have thought was a stern look.

"Wow. You don't know..." Olivia shook her head, and barely repressed another bout of laughter. She stood and went to stand next to him, putting a consoling hand on his shoulder. "The whole squad's going, Barba. Actually, most of the NYPD will be there. NY Children's League is one of the Department's special charities." She lost her battle with the giggles. "You had no idea what you were signing up for, did you?"

He shook his head and sank into her small sofa, cradling his head in his hands. "What am I going to do?" he asked to no one in particular.

"I'm sure it will be relatively painless," Olivia assured him, leaning against the edge of her desk and trying not to enjoy this moment of watching Barba in a panic.

He whipped his head up to look at her, astounded. " _Painless_? Really, Sergeant? I'll have you know that word has already gotten out around my office and the women are making— _comments_ —" He shuddered dramatically. "And one even went so far as to squeeze my bicep..." His eyes widened. "What if it's Judge Donnelly? What if it's any of my opposing counsel? Olivia—" he sat up and leaned forward earnestly, "you _can't_ let it be anyone else. Please, you have to win me."

Olivia sighed. "I don't know, Barba. My bank account can only cover a grand, maybe fifteen hundred."

His mouth fell open. "Good god—you don't really think it's going to get that out of hand, do you?"

One corner of her mouth kicked up in a smile. "You're a Manhattan ADA who looks expensive all the time. You really think there's going to be any kind of restraint when it comes to winning an evening and dinner with you?" She shook her head, relenting when she saw the sheer panic in his eyes. "Alright, Barba, I can go to two grand, but you're going to owe me a favor. ANY favor, to be redeemed whenever I want."

He leapt to his feet and it seemed for a moment like he was going to hug her, but then he got himself under control. "Yes, absolutely, anything you want," he said, his relief palpable.

Olivia straightened and went around her desk to grab a sheet of paper. She quickly wrote out the terms of their agreement and the date, then held it out to Barba. "Sign at the bottom, please."

He just stared at her. "You can't be serious." Olivia simply flapped the paper and pen at him expectantly. He scowled. "Do you really think I'd renege?" he asked as he took them from her and bent down to sign on the line she'd drawn for him.

"Barba, you were the one who taught me never to trust a verbal agreement. Especially not one from an attorney." She smiled as she accepted the paper back from him, bending down to sign it herself. "There we go. I'll make you a copy."

"That's not necessary," he grumbled, making Olivia laugh again.

"Oh, but it is. I don't want you to forget this anytime soon. In fact I'm going to frame mine and hang it up in here. I'll see you Saturday?" She chuckled for a full thirty minutes after he left.

* * *

Saturday night finally arrived and Olivia couldn't help but smile when she looked at herself in the mirror at her apartment. She'd bought this little red dress an age ago and then never had an appropriate occasion to break it out—but tonight definitely qualified. She slipped on her heels, applied her lipstick, and swept out the door to hail a cab.

Once she arrived at the Yule Ball venue, she quickly found Rollins and Fin waiting for her in the lobby. "You clean up well," she said to them. Amanda smiled but Fin just made a face.

"I hate getting pretty for the press," Fin complained. As if on cue, a photographer stepped up and gestured for them to stand together. After posing for the picture, Olivia led them into the ballroom and to their table. SVU was seated with some of the brass from the rest of the 16th precinct who greeted them when they took their seats.

"Heard your ADA's up for grabs tonight," one of the unis laughed.

"Don't remind him," Olivia joked back. "He made me promise to win him so no one else could take advantage."

The table laughed good-naturedly, and conversation splintered as Olivia, Amanda, and Fin tried to figure out how Barba had gotten tangled up in this mess in the first place.

"Maybe he really does have a heart?" Amanda asked, but her tone was doubtful.

"Nah, more like they caught him while he was distracted," Fin supplied. Privately, Olivia agreed; but she thought it was best to defend Barba's heart of gold.

"You know he does mean well," she pointed out. Her detectives nodded unconvincingly.

Chief Dodds arrived soon thereafter and conversation revolved around work for a bit. Food and wine were served shortly after, and Olivia enjoyed her meal immensely. She waved at a few other cops she knew at other tables, and then the lights dimmed. It was time for the auction.

"Oooookay, New York's finest! It's time for the event you have all been waiting for—our Date a Santa auction!" Raucous cheers and applause filled the room. "Let's not delay, we have lots of money to make for the New York Children's League tonight. Without further ado, please welcome to the stage Santa #1!"

Everyone clapped as a young officer walked out from behind the curtains wearing a Santa hat and red bowtie. The announcer continued, "Officer Meyer is with the 47th precinct out of the Bronx, and he is hoping for a lady that loves Italian food!" More applause and wolf whistles sounded as Officer Meyer spun in a slow circle and then flexed his biceps. "Bidding will start at $50!"

The bids quickly escalated and before long, a date with Officer Meyer had pulled in $400.

"Damn, that's some serious cash," Fin muttered.

"No one bids seriously on the first one up," Amanda said. "I bet they top a grand before the night's out."

Olivia snorted into her drink. If only they knew how much she was potentially planning to spend on Barba...

Santa #2 was a fit, middle-aged lieutenant from the 7th in Manhattan. His date included a carriage ride through Central Park and went for $250. Santa #3 turned out to be Carisi.

"Detective Sonny Carisi from the SVU in 16th just graduated from law school and can't wait to look through _your_ briefs! Come on ladies, let's start this one at $100!"

Olivia and Amanda hooted and hollered louder than anyone else as Carisi did a couple of silly twirls and took a bow. He appeared to be making eye contact and smiling at each lady in the room, so by the time the announcer called "SOLD!" the bids had reached $750. Carisi bowed again and blew a kiss towards the winner as he jogged offstage.

"Gonna take me a while to unhear that one," Fin said. Then he shook his head. "Kid's gonna be impossible to live with for the next few months if someone doesn't go for higher than $750."

Carisi joined them at the table and they gave him a ribbing before settling down and continuing to watch the proceedings. Santas 4, 5, and 6 were auctioned off with a great deal of laughter, cheesy lines about handcuffs, and general good spirits, although no one had garnered more than $600. The announcer conferred with an assistant for a few moments and then declared that there would be a ten minute break while they "dealt with a situation" in the back.

"I better go, uh, help," Carisi said nervously, springing up and practically running for the stage.

"Uh oh," Amanda said. "Sounds like Santa #7 isn't cooperating."

The three of them looked at each other and then Olivia said what they were all thinking: "Bet it's Barba."

They dissolved into laughter. The waiters were busy bringing around more bottles of wine as the gala attendees waited for the auction to restart. After twelve minutes, their announcer was back, although she looked more harried than she had before.

"AND WE'RE BACK!" she yelled into the microphone. "Let's get to it. Santa #7 is someone many of you know but few of you love—our own Assistant District Attorney Rafael Barba!"

There was a long pause as everyone waited for Barba to take the stage. There was the unmistakable sound of a scuffle from backstage when all of a sudden Barba was shoved into view. He was wearing a Santa hat that was horribly askew, and he ripped it off his head with a backwards glare at whoever was behind the curtain. He kept it clutched in one fist as he approached the podium, glaring out at the audience now.

"There he is! Let's give him a round of applause, folks; it's not every day we get an ADA up here." The assembly complied and Olivia gave her loudest wolf whistle. "Come on, Rafael, give us a spin so the good people can see what they're bidding on."

Barba leaned close to her microphone and said, "It's ADA Barba, and frankly, I would rather gnaw off my own arm."

The announcer looked completely taken aback, but she forged ahead with a strenuous smile. "Oooh, we have a sassy one! Alright, let's start the bidding at $100 for _ADA Barba_!"

As Olivia expected, the bidding rocketed up immediately. They hit $700 within three bids. She grinned into her wineglass as Barba shifted uncomfortably on the stage, Santa hat still clenched in his hand. Two more bids had put them at $1,100, and the announcer was positively thrilled.

"Why don't we find out a little bit more about ADA Barba's date night plans, hmm? What's it going to be, Santa #7?"

Again Barba leaned close to the microphone. "I don't have any plans."

"Well, isn't that—ha, well, who doesn't love a Man of Mystery?" the announcer babbled, trying hard to put a positive spin on Barba's distinct lack of charm. Bids resumed, with a bidding war finally breaking out between Rita Calhoun and a female officer from another precinct. Olivia waited, not wanting to get involved until the last minute. She didn't want it to seem like she was desperate for a night with Barba, after all.

But this was apparently making Barba nervous, because he gave her a look that clearly said _what are you waiting for please save me_. Olivia simply smiled and waved at him. The announcer called "Going once!" at a whopping $1,600, and Olivia reached for her paddle. Time to put an end to the madness.

"$1,700," she said loudly.

From two tables over, Olivia saw Rita's face take on her characteristic determined look. She raised her paddle and bid $1,800. They went back and forth a bit more until finally—"Going, going, GONE for $2,100 to Sergeant Benson! WOW!"

Fin was shaking his head, amused, and Amanda was staring at Olivia with a boggled expression. "Maybe next time we need a warrant, he'll be a little more cooperative," was all she said.

Olivia smirked as Barba exited the stage and came to sit with them. He waved away the comments from their tablemates, scowling as he took his seat and pulled at the collar of his dress shirt.

"Thank god that's over," he declared, grabbing Olivia's wineglass and draining the rest of her drink.

Her brows rose when he finally glanced at her. "I paid an extra hundred bucks, Barba; you'd better take me to a five-star restaurant."

He groaned while the rest of the squad laughed. "While I'm glad that you're all taking such delight in my downfall, I would just like to remind you that if Olivia hadn't bid on me, I might be subject to the whims of an opposing counsel right now." He paused dramatically, but Amanda continued to giggle. Carisi suspiciously coughed several times and then excused himself from the table. Fin and Amanda followed suit.

"I don't know why you're complaining," Olivia told him. "That sounds wonderfully sexy."

She scooted her chair away from him when it looked like he might strangle her, but she couldn't stop her peals of laughter.

"Proud of yourself, hmm?" he asked, gripping the edges of her seat and hauling her back to her spot. He didn't release the chair, but leaned forward until their faces were very close. "Just for that, Olivia, I insist you wear that dress when I take you out to a fancy dinner." He let go and sat back, his expression now replaced by his usual smugness.

"You're on, Barba," Olivia replied. "I'll even bust out the perfume." She smirked when some of his confidence fell.

* * *

Three weeks later, Barba rang the bell at Olivia's apartment.

"Come on up!" she called through the speaker, pressing the buzzer to let him in. She moved around the room to collect her coat and purse, and met him at the door. "You're prompt," she said as she stepped into the hallway and locked up.

"You're lovely," he replied immediately, and Olivia fumbled her keys. Barba bent down to retrieve them and handed them back. "What? Isn't that what I'm supposed to say to my date? Admittedly it's been a while since I've wooed a lady, but I seem to remember that compliments were part of the package."

"Can we please not discuss your package any more this evening?" Olivia joked. Barba mock-scowled at her and offered his arm, which she hesitated just a moment before taking. She took a deep breath, reminding herself that this was just a friends date—a simple night out between two coworkers who were also close. Nothing more. She had done him a favor; he was returning it with a nice dinner. Even if he _had_ put her off for a full two weeks before she had been able to pin him down and schedule this...

Resolving to enjoy herself tonight, Olivia let Barba lead their conversation as the cab took them across town to an expensive new restaurant near Columbus Circle. To her surprise, they managed not to talk about work much as the evening progressed, and she found herself relaxing and genuinely having a good time. Barba, too, was more at ease than she could ever remember seeing him. After he had paid the bill—with a faux-snide remark about demanding dates—he helped her into her coat and they exited the restaurant.

"I don't know about you but I'm not ready to go home yet," he remarked, glancing sideways at her. "Would you like to walk in the park for a bit?"

"I'd love to," Olivia replied earnestly. This time when he offered his arm, she took it without hesitation. They meandered through Central Park, enjoying the crisp nighttime breeze and the holiday lights on display. They stopped to watch the ice skaters for a little while and then strolled on. Still, their conversation avoided the topic of their jobs; they discussed the plays currently on Broadway and bickered amicably about the best donuts in the city.

"I'm telling you Underwest is worth the hike—" Olivia argued as they exited the park.

"And I already explained why cronuts are actually the best pastry," Rafael countered. Then he stopped in his tracks and stared up at the buildings on the other side of the street. "Damn. I was supposed to walk you home, not the other way around."

Olivia smiled and tugged at his arm, pulling him across the street. "I steered us here. I wouldn't mind a glass of wine at your place—that is, if you have anything other than scotch?"

"Of course I have beverages other than scotch. I just don't know why anyone would want to drink them."

Rafael nodded at the doorman as he let them in, then took out his keys while they waited for the elevator. A restless, reckless sort of feeling expanded in Olivia's belly as they stepped onto the elevator. _What are you doing? What is this?_ She had kept it tamped down for most of the night, but now, she was keenly aware of the fact that she was heading to Barba's place for a nightcap, _and_ that she had meticulously shaved her legs earlier in the day. Still, it was possible that she would simply drink her drink and then head home for the night—alone.

And, if she was being honest with herself, disappointed.

Once they entered his apartment, Rafael tossed his keys onto a side table and turned to take Olivia's coat. He drew it off her shoulders with a slowness that she thought _had_ to be deliberate. The feeling in her stomach kicked up a notch and suggested that perhaps she wouldn't be spending tonight alone after all.

"What can I get you?" he murmured, still standing close behind her.

"Uh, red wine, if you have it," she stammered.

Barba moved off to hang their coats and then headed into his kitchen. Olivia closed her eyes and breathed in through her nose, trying to get a handle on her rioting hormones while he wasn't standing so close to her. Glasses clinked in the kitchen, jarring her out of her thoughts, and Olivia headed into his main living space, coming to a stop in front of his floor to ceiling windows. He really did have a fantastic view—she shuddered to imagine what his monthly rent was like for this place. She examined her reflection in the window and again wondered _What am I doing here_?

Red dress. Heels. Makeup. Perfume. About to chase her dinner with a glass of wine and—what, exactly? She had no idea.

Giving herself a firm mental shake, Olivia moved over to his sound system and cued up whatever he'd been listening to last. Soft Latin music, apparently. Smiling to herself, Olivia drifted around the room, taking the time to examine the personal mementos he'd put on display.

There were shockingly few.

In the past when she had been here, it was purely because of work. She'd come in, waited for him to be ready, and they'd headed for wherever the job was taking them that day. Tonight, however, she had the luxury of time, so she made a complete circuit of the room. It was decorated tastefully—probably a designer's touch—and the few framed photos were of Barba's mother, his law school graduation, and...her.

Oh, sure, the rest of the squad was in the photo too, but she and Barba were in the middle, arms slung around each other and laughter on their faces. She remembered this vaguely—two years ago, maybe, at the precinct New Years' party. Well, it wasn't really a party so much as a middle of the night celebration when they'd been able to put a difficult perp behind bars. They had been working the case around the clock for a few days and Barba had managed to lock him up without a lengthy trial. They'd all been exhausted, slaphappy, and deliriously gleeful—and, evidently, someone had snapped a photo.

"That was when we closed the Jurgenson case," he said from behind her.

Olivia whirled around. "I couldn't remember the name," she said inanely. Then, "That was a good collar though."

Barba nodded and held out her drink. Once she had taken the glass, he clinked his own against it and said, "Cheers." Then he took a long sip of his scotch and asked the question that had been plaguing her ever since they'd left the park. "What are we doing here?"

His eyes were solemn but not judgmental. Nor, she was happy to see, did he seem like he was in a hurry to be rid of her, or in any way displeased with her presence in his apartment. Considering the evening they'd had so far, and the fact that she wasn't ready to go home yet, her next words popped out without much thought: "I'm ready to call in my favor."

His brows rose. "So soon?" Then he casually shrugged a shoulder. "Alright. Shoot."

Olivia scooted around him and went to sit in one of his plush armchairs. She crossed her legs, then fiddled with the hem of her dress, and then finally tightened her grip on her wineglass for support. "I want you to give me a strip tease."

Barba laughed, but she didn't. His mirth quickly faded in the face of her silence. He shook his head as if to clear it. "You can't be serious."

"Oh, yes," Olivia said, taking a long, slow sip of her wine, "I am completely serious. Strip, Counselor." Her voice came out a bit husky and Olivia cleared her throat while she waited, expectantly. She sat back in her chair a little, getting comfortable.

Still Barba stood there, staring at her like she had grown a second head, or suddenly transformed into a cat.

The longer the silence spun between them, the better Olivia thought her idea was. This would definitely be worth emptying her bank account right around the holidays. She smirked at his befuddled expression and gestured towards the speakers. "Is the music not to your liking?" she asked.

Barba huffed, an incredulous sort of sound that implied he was still waiting for her to say it was all a joke. "Olivia. Surely there's something else you want—something else you could ask for? You don't have to use up your favor right away," he argued, getting into his persuasive courtroom persona. "In fact, your favor never expires. Think about it—you could call it in the next time you request an unwarranted search warrant! Or use it to make me try one of your 'There's not a statute on the books per se, Barba, but it's still rape' cases! Liv, you could even—"

She waggled a finger at him. "You won't be able to sway me, Barba. This is my $2,100 Christmas present to myself so make it good."

She sat back and drank a bit more wine. Barba huffed some more, even paced a little, and then came to stand in front of her again. He growled. Sensing victory, Olivia smiled and leaned forward to play her trump card. "Maybe you would have rather been out with Rita tonight instead?"

Barba shuddered and closed his eyes, his expression resigned. "I refuse to gyrate," he ground out.

"Of course," Olivia offered conciliatorily.

When he opened his eyes again, the look there was warm and intense and promised retribution. Olivia felt her entire body respond, heating from within and making her feel tingly everywhere.

With tight, precise movements Barba shed his coat, tossing it onto his sofa. He reached up to untie his tie, performing that masculine motion of pulling it side to side to loosen the knot before he pulled it through his shirt collar and tossed it the way of his coat. Olivia watched in fascination, feeling like she was in a dream. This couldn't really be happening, not to her and not with him—surely? But then he started on his vest and Olivia knew this _was_ real and in fact, it was hers to direct.

"Slow down on the buttons," she murmured, letting out a happy sigh when he complied. He looked up at her through his lashes and she felt her body melt. After the vest was gone, he slipped the suspenders off his shoulders, letting them hang at his sides. Now Olivia knew her eyes were wide, drinking in the sight in front of her. Her breathing sped up and she shifted in her chair, trying to ease the sudden ache between her thighs.

Barba toed off his shoes and placed them carefully out of the way. He started to undo the buttons on his shirt—again, slowly—and then pulled his shirt out of his waistband and splayed the sides open. "Is this enough for you, yet?" he rasped, the sound shooting straight to all of Olivia's good parts.

Staring at his bared chest, Olivia mutely shook her head _no_. He was lithe and tanned, his smattering of chest hair trailing down his belly and disappearing into his pants. Olivia had the sudden, vivid image of following that line with her tongue.

The music slowed on a sultry jazz number as Barba's shirt hit the floor, missing the sofa. He wasn't looking, however, as his eyes were locked on her face. She licked her lips as she took in the image he made in just his suit trousers. His gaze darkened as it landed on her mouth, and he unclasped the suspenders, letting them clunk to the floor. He hesitated for just a moment and then he unzipped his pants and let them fall. Removing his pants and socks and throwing them over his shoulder, he stood proudly in front of her in his boxer briefs.

"Well?" he asked.

"I thought you were going to gyrate," she managed, lifting her eyes to meet his. "I was looking forward to the gyrating."

A short laugh escaped him and Olivia smiled as well. Seeming to not know what to do with his hands, he settled for propping his fists on his hips. He considered her. "Maybe if you gave me something to look forward to—?"

"I see how it is," Olivia murmured. "You lawyers never want to give without getting." Standing, she finished her wine and set the glass down. Then she drained what was left of his scotch and placed that glass next to hers. Taking a few slow steps toward him, she made sure to roll her hips as she went. Now it was Barba's turn to lick his lips, and Olivia stopped to do a slow dip-and-hip-roll. Straightening, she reached behind her back and unzipped her dress, shimmying her shoulders a bit until the dress fell and pooled at her feet. Stepping carefully out of it—she did love that dress—she approached Barba in just her bra, panties, and heels. And god help her, she'd never felt sexier in her life.

One of his eyebrows winged up as she came forward again. She reached out to push at his shoulders until he fell back onto his sofa. She came to stand just in front of his legs, doing another little dip and roll to the music. Placing her hands just under her breasts, she dipped again as she ran her hands down her sides to her thighs, and then back up, ghosting over her breasts and going up to fan her hair out behind her. "See, it's like that," she said, her voice deep with need and desire.

"Easy for you to say," Barba managed. "You look amazing half-naked." His hands lifted and then fell as though he wanted to touch her, but he wasn't sure if he had permission.

Olivia undid the clasp on her bra and flung it behind her, smiling victoriously when his mouth fell open. She would never have imagined in her wildest dreams that she'd be performing a strip tease for Rafael Barba, but she was beyond happy that it was happening now. The look on his face would stay with her for a long, long time.

She continued to sway her hips in time to the music, even spinning around and shimmying her ass for him. When she faced him again, she moved forward to straddle one of his thighs, rocking her hips down until her panties brushed his leg. They both moaned. She felt like she was ready to explode and she wasn't sure how much more teasing she could take—

"Come here," he demanded. Glad that he could read her mind, Olivia fell forward to place her lips on his neck. One of his hands came up to tangle in her hair while the other one landed firmly on her ass, pulling her closer. He turned his head so that their lips met, moaning into her mouth, and they were both lost.

Kissing passionately, they ran their hands all over each other, licking and tasting and squeezing. Before long she was straddling his lap fully, grinding herself against his erection and biting at his shoulder. Barba shifted just enough to free himself from his boxers, and then he pushed her panties aside and thrust into her. Olivia's head fell back as she cried out, loving the way he filled her. Barba gripped her hips and pounded into her relentlessly, so it wasn't long before she was shouting his name as she came. His fingers tightened on her hips as he followed her, his hoarse 'Olivia' almost bringing her to the brink again.

Sated for the moment, Olivia slumped onto his chest, breathing heavily. "Holy shit," she gasped.

"I think you meant holy fuck," he suggested. Olivia pinched his nipple just enough to be painful. He swatted her hand away and twisted so that he was lying on top of her on the sofa. "In any case, _I_ meant holy fuck."

She laughed, surprised and happy that they could still joke with each other after something as momentous as what they'd just done. "I'll have to make you take me to dinner more often," she said, wrapping her arms around him and burying her face against his neck.

"Done," he announced eagerly and they both chuckled again. Then he continued, "You've got some moves, Detective Benson."

Olivia smiled against his skin. "I should. Alex Cabot and I spent a lot of money on a pole dancing fitness class a few years back." When he reared up with an expression of astonishment, she laughed. "Promise to show you more sometime, if you're interested," she whispered.

"Hell, yes," he answered before his brought his lips down to hers once again.

* * *

 **Merry Christmas, everyone! Thank you for all your kind words as I venture into writing Barson fics. :)**


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